


light me up

by orphan_account



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Feudal Japan!AU, Implied Sexual Content, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 00:39:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19801120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: now nayeon more deeply dreads seeing the gown on the bed and its seams halfway restored, knowing full well the princess in osaka will destroy it once more come the light of the moon.





	light me up

**Author's Note:**

> updated like 7+ times since posting bcs my dumb ass couldn't remember where i put the actual final draft and decided to wing it.. but i FINALLY found it

"doesn't it bother you?"

the gust of wind from the immediate window more stifles her question, but nayeon still has to pretend she hadn't heard.

"what?"

"doesn't it bother you—" she sighs, tapping the cypress railing beneath her uneasy fingers, "—that she's been coming every night recently and you're, _y'know_ ," the sentence tapers off into a whisper, and momo can't help but purse her lips in rue.

"you mean guarding your doors as ordered?" nayeon suggests, hands stuttering in place of her words. she has to pause for this reason, needle in hand and dress in the other. it's untimely, to say the least. "yeah, that, and—"

"and mending your dresses?" she says it as if she hasn't caught on, like she's convincing with this sudden naiveness and momo will let her act this way, like she has last night and the many previous ones.

(among many things, this is what nayeon does best.)

"i'm your handmaiden, still, even if i bring you gag gifts on the holidays, or add salt to your tea," nayeon clears her throat, "i _am_ your friend, but your majesty will not have me here if i opposed—"

" _no_ ," momo interrupts, her tone more longing than she's meant it to be. nayeon drops the article and the needle with it now, rathers bleeding just one way than both.

"i meant _her_ , nayeon. what do you think of her?" momo clarifies, heartsore, and she's more grateful now for her current orientation. after all, the one thing she would never entitle nayeon to is the show of pity on her face.

"i think she's pretty." the answer comes frankly, "and she has so much going on in osaka. i heard from the townsfolk that she's had her father stock in on shiitake in anticipation of the flu season," she exaggerates her awe, her truth stowed away for a much better time.

"i think she's good for you, momoring," she assures, hopes to ease her grip off the railing, even if barely. the princess looks over her shoulder, just enough doubt showing that her brows crease a little and she manages a small smile.

nayeon wants so badly to make her happy.

"nothing will change, princess. don't be like that," she grouches, getting on her feet. momo simply looks as she nears the window, settles for clinging to the maiden's waist from the height of her seat. nayeon thumbs at her hair, strokes and brushes away in her bliss.

her lineage and momo's are worlds apart, the reds of her kindred's toil oftentimes accenting the silks and satins of regal kimono. the emperor likes to think them weak and powerless, run by their foreign blood so then made to till soil foreign to them.

nayeon dishonors the palace, he says, and the one reason she remains is momo's insistence, her majesty, and then _maybe_ getting to run her unworthy fingers through her majesty's hair. it pays off in the coursing of care and love and purpose in her system, how momo makes her heart race so rapidly the royal steeds can never get on par.

it _is_ true that nothing will change, but now nayeon more deeply dreads seeing the gown on the bed and its seams halfway restored, knowing full well the princess in osaka will destroy it once more come the light of the moon.

* * *

if not for the over-the-top drapery and the dark of night, all the townsmen would have swooned in awe of minatozaki sana. she looks absolutely elegant, even in the clothes of commonfolk. she's sweet and delicate in the manner she moves, smiles at nayeon in genuine salute. nayeon understands just why momo has grown to crave her presence.

(this was not supposed to happen.

the marriage was intended to purely aid the negotiation between the two kingdoms. sana isn't supposed to be seeing the princess prior to the ceremony, nor should she even be stepping foot in their protectorate. her father in osaka has specifically stated that she had greater prospects, _men_ , and deeply rebuked her mingling with the kyoto natives, but her marrying the heir to the empire was the only way to secure deals between the two nations. osaka was a much smaller kingdom, after all, leeching off kyoto's supply of herbs and slaves, while their emperor swims in the remittance of pearls.

momo wasn't supposed to know that, but sana had shared this knowledge in goodwill the day they've been acquianted. she had cried in nayeon's embrace that night, huffing how it wasn't fair, how her father has sold his own flesh and blood out for fucking _rocks_.

so if there is anything nayeon has taken away from that incident, it's that momo is better off like this, happy with the woman she's been set to marry as her father is with the exchange.)

besides, sana will do her so much good, fond and concretely royal in all her ways—

—save for the thudding of the walls at night, suppressed noises and whimpers and nayeon can't help the clumping of air in her lungs when she hears momo cry out sana's name.

on nights like this one, she lets the thoughts swarm her head and her truth burst from its cage. it pains her differently how she's even honored to guard the princess's sanctity like this.

how this is the closest she'll ever get to being in sana's place, even counting all their joys and troughs and the times she's let momo hold her hand, and then her heart with it.

she'll never hear it from her, but nayeon has no right to compare, should never _ever_ think herself equal to royalty like sana. she is a subject, a peasant, her handmaiden strictly, if only to spare her the torment of being no better than a friend.

momo can't love the likes of her, no matter how much she does or how much nayeon loves her in return. the emperor will _not_ allow it, and neither will her fate.

(maybe in another life.)

her heart starts thrumming in its hurt, and she fears they might hear.

so then nayeon wonders how it'd be to see her the way only sana can, the way she's disheveled under gridded moonshine and begging faintly for release like she does now— she decides, _persists_ until sana bids her temporary goodbye, that no other princess would look prettier unsanctified.

she bleeds, even hours before she ought to hold a needle and mend again.

it bothers nayeon in ways she can never make known. 

**Author's Note:**

> sana doesn't get hurt in this one hooray


End file.
